


Choking

by chokeurlocalstarwh0re



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awesome Finn (Star Wars), Choking, Daddy Kink, Dark Poe Dameron, Destroying Starwars Cannon, Exhibitionism, F/M, Force Choking (Star Wars), Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Light BDSM, Multiple Partners, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Praise Kink, Shameless Smut, Slow Romance, Switch Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chokeurlocalstarwh0re/pseuds/chokeurlocalstarwh0re
Summary: The following story disregards much of the Current StarWars Cannon. Following some parts of the Sequel trilogy, and totally disregarding others. I have blended my knowledge of StarWars as a whole to create this Stoner Fever Dream. Probably not the Fic for Rey/Reylo fans. Scratch that, definitely not. I've almost totally erased the Mary Sue from the narrative._____A Long time ago, In a galaxy far far away...The dead speak incessantly to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, as the flames of resistance punch through the shadow of The First Order. Allegiant General Pryde enlists his greatest ally, A High Command General, to infiltrate resistance trade routes on the planet of Naboo. What is unknown to The First Order, is how important her role should come to be.General Organa continues to train Rey in the way of the force, as the resistance scours the galaxy for force-sensitive allies to their cause. Should Rey fail, a secret weapon lies in plain sight awaiting the call of General Organa. Having infiltrated The First Order, at it's highest point there is hope yet for The Galaxy.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Introduction

A vibrant sunset painted the meadows of Naboo in a haze of stunning oranges and yellows. The two most prominent moons had already ascended in the sky, striking in their closeness to the planet. Despite the scars of war, Naboo remained beautiful and opulent. There was something to be said of the soft roar of a nearby waterfall, cascading into a bubbling stream down river beds of polished translucent stone. Insects hummed a soft melody, a love song for the dying light. Wildflowers danced with the soft winds, their perfume permeating the evening air. If this sprawling estate was all you had ever known of the galaxy...you would never be able to conceive of the idea of bloodshed, or war. It had been said, that the land here was once sacred to the Jedi, sacred to a bygone era.

Commander General Mortisstern stood on one of the many balconies of her temporary home. Her gown flitted in the breeze, a banner of silken indigo stretching towards the setting sun. The tender touch of evening air raised goosebumps on her skin as she sipped from a deep golden chalice of sweet wine. Evenings like these found her distant, contemplative, and often drunk. Mortisstern found it particularly disturbing that these evenings were becoming more frequent. For the third time, in her fourteen years of service, she had found herself separated from The First Order for any real duration. She feared that she was beginning to unravel. The change in scenery brought with it the morbidity of her upbringing, the reality of her atrocities. Her chalice thudded down at her side as she took her seat. Crimson fluid sloshed from the rim and over her fingers onto the table, oozing away from its receptacle in a visceral omen. There would be more blood on her hands, this respite, this vice, was temporary. 

She turned a heavy gold ring on her index finger, one she had always carried with her on a matching chain. The ring had only come to fit her in the late years of her adolescence, although she was given little opportunity to wear it. The shining kyber crystal setting had always been enthralling to her, its life force shifting its color with every vibrating breath. In the pitch of night, it glowed with an aura of power. She knew little of its properties, the way in which it worked. She found her vision blurred with the haze of drink, and her mind buzzing much like the stone rooted down in its gilded cage. 

She posed as a woman of nobility from a world that in truth she had helped to snuff out. In fact, it was likely that she had shed the blood of the very woman she was pretending to be. The true Enadora Steil, and the entirety of her family, had been cut down for their betrayal. Family...what a terribly foreign concept. She knew little of such a thing in a true way, but her second in command posed as her younger sister. The resemblance was somewhat weak, but they carried themselves similarly. General Lyxum had considerable acting skills, and so Mortisstern played out her role as a troubled fixture in the background. To those that had come to know her, or rather be deceived by her, she was a reclusive and exorbitantly wealthy woman eaten up by war. She both resented and relished her relative isolation. The contemplation the quiet brought her was both a relief and an indescribable burden. Tonight, she was damning it with a particular ferocity as her thoughts whirred with the blur of drunkenness.

Her duty was not unlike that which she had done before. She was on the planet of Naboo to gather intelligence on resistance ties to the planet, of which there were many. It was rumored that the resistance trade route ran through Naboo with some frequency. The remainder of her special forces troops found themselves spread across the world as a result of this, feining normal and productive lives. Mortisstern wondered how they felt living in such a peaceful place. If it haunted them the same...but she dare not ask. She had found herself growing close to her troops on this mission, and worried how they would readjust to the coldness of The First Order. They reported official business in person on a monthly basis. They did this under the guise of an exclusive social event. The art of subtlety was not lost on her, but rather uncalled for in the circumstance. Naboo held a lifestyle of opulence. Extravagant and exclusive gatherings were a regular occurrence among the elite. Two of her allies were native to Naboo, and of noble blood, which aided in her transition to the culture exponentially. 

As a decorated and high ranking special services member of The First Order, Mortisstern was a hardened warrior. She had taken her place as the youngest member of The High Command, a tribute to her dedication. Elaborate gowns and elegant hairstyles framing sultry makeup took up her mornings instead of rigorous training. Her days were spent eating elaborate meals with a small inner circle of important people, rather than cramming down rations aboard command ships. Come night, she sipped wine by roaring fires. Yet, she felt hollow under the constant pressure to keep up the appearances of grace and wealth...or rather, more hollow than normal. She wondered if true nobles felt as defeated by the society surrounding them as she did.

As the night blanketed Naboo in a billion brilliant stars, she recognized a ship appearing near to her secluded home. She didn't enjoy the fact that Pryde often neglected to announce himself, but could do little to stop it. He did not do this because it was within his authority as her superior, it wasn't. He barged in with such impunity because he did not have respect for her as an adult woman requiring privacy. Allegiant General Pryde let himself in and found her still entranced by the moons of Naboo, having dismissed his growing presence almost entirely. As she sipped her wine, he considered if he should wait for her to acknowledge him. He realized after a long moment, punctuated by the song of the nocturnal life of Naboo, she had no intention of greeting him. 

"Moon..." He said, allowing the harshness of his voice to wash out over her. He was loud, and stern compared to the gentle, melodic lilt of the people she had come to know here. Her nickname sounded wrong in his mouth as if it barbed at him as it tore from his throat. He had always called her this, and yet she never grew used to it. He had resented her true name from the very moment her mother had bestowed it upon her. His attempt at paternal softness wasn't foreign to her, but she did not appreciate it in any true capacity. He was only willing to be a father to her far away from the rest of The First Order. 

"Yes, General?" It was not that she thought her father did not care for her. She knew that he loved her in his own way. In her heart, she knew it was unfair to him, but she felt like his demand for formality implied that he regretted her. He could not grant her the same love and recognition as a traditional father even if he wanted to. There was no room for such things in the order. He had kept her safe for all of these years but it would never be enough...The silence of the moment was stolen by the grit of his voice, quieter now, reaching out to her across the haze of her thoughts. 

"The Supreme Leader would like you to enter into The High Council. I brought forward the recommendation." She turned to face him, a bitterness rising in her eyes. There was much about The First Order she was not meant to know, but he often divulged. She knew that the position was of the highest importance, but her thirst for power was not as strong as her father's. She knew in her deepest of hearts that she had no room to refuse, sealed into whatever position her father saw fit to force upon her. 

"Would I not be of higher value if I continued this mission? I have made great progress in establishing myself here."Her voice left her throat in a distant rasp. She drank down the rest of her wine, washing away the resentment she had for the man. She did not meet his eyes as she elbowed past him, elegance chipping away to reveal her militant nature as she walked.

"If you have not made enough progress in the eyes of The Supreme Leader, he may have an interest in removing you." She collected a second chalice from the shelf and poured a hearty glass for both of them. She sat down at the table, Allegiant General Pryde sinking in the seat across from her. A few moments passed in silence, the sounds of nature outside the only sound in the room as she slid the second Chalice across the table to him. She said nothing in reply, the intensity of her gaze growing troubling as he took the Chalice in his hand.

"I know you have reservations about The Order, you always have, but you are a strong asset. I know that you are the loyal soldier that I raised you to be. Stubborn...Like your mother." The final tentative words died on his lips as she pulled down another deep drink of the warming liquid.

"Our goal is still to infiltrate the resistance trade routes and I know that if anyone can do so, it would be you. I have suggested that you continue this operation from Naboo, but I can not speak for The Supreme Leader. You know that. If he should want to confer with you aboard the-" She lifted her hand in a silent interruption. Taking a long moment to contemplate her next words. 

"I accept your offer. I will join The High Council. I will not, however, compromise this mission to begin another when I have come this far. I do not wish to bow to the conveniences of a madman. We have gathered intelligence to suggest that The Resistance does in fact have suppliers here. It doesn't make sense to remove me, even temporarily, from such a critical role. If we must meet in person, he may come here in the cover of darkness as you do." Pryde looked over the face of his daughter for a long moment. She so resembled her mother, and although she had known little of her, they were so alike. Her resolve was simultaneously his greatest point of pride, and a pain in his ass that never ceased. He took a long, deep swallow of wine before continuing.

"I will attempt to persuade him of the importance of such measures. I will say that he is a very powerful, and deeply unstable man Moon. Who would I be to leave you alone with him? Especially should you decide to have your wine and become overly facetious..." She finished her third cup of the night with an audible gulp, wiping away the potent liquid from her bottom lip. She stood, moving around him and back to the balcony. He stood to follow her, more relaxed now as he took another deep drink of his wine sighing under his breath. He bowed his head, staring into the near-empty chalice. 

"Why have you not contacted me without coming here?" His eyes lingered up to the moons of Naboo. He often found here here, gazing up at the stars. As if she was searching for something, absolutely anything.

"We both know why I have not done that, our privacy in these exchanges is paramount. I wish you would not be so combative, especially now. This whole endeavor poses a danger to you that I do not truly wish to inflict..." She met his eyes, nodding slowly before she turned her eyes back to the stars. She crossed her arms against the coldness of the night, and the words of her father.

"Goodnight, Moon."


	2. Plagueis

The expanse of the outer rim was a desolate and dangerous place at the best of times. Torn apart by the ravages of centuries-old wars, poverty, and crushing famine. Even the republic, in all of its iterations, had turned its back on the planets bordering the unknown regions. Despite the rise, and the fall...of the skywalker blood on the outer rim planet of Tattoine, no help ever came to its people. There was no desire to aid the parts of the galaxy few indulged in, or cared to know, that were not undesirables.

There loomed a hidden menace, bordering the unknown regions. A massive destroyer completed far too late to aid in the battle for Starkiller, now a temporary base of command for high ranking First Order business. The Supreme Leader had laid the plans for the vessel himself, a vessel that the resistance stood no chance against...should they be able to locate it in the first place. Advanced cloaking technology, fed by Kyber crystals revealed the location of the Plagues to no one. There was little room for error now, as resistance stirred within the galaxy, those of high interest to the mission of The First Order could not risk further exposure.

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren stared transfixed through the expansive wall of glass within his sleeping quarters, more opulent than the last ones he had inhabited. He found himself ever more enthralled with the wonder of the galaxy, even as his capacity for joy grew increasingly thin. He had always so loved the nebulous void of space, the freedom it represented to him. He found peace in the largeness of it all...how little it mattered to be alive in a galaxy so large that no man had transversed its totality. Of course, this line of thinking had died with the realization of his true destiny.

There was training to be done, and although little else stirred aboard the ships besides maintenance crews, Kylo had not been to sleep at all. His eyes found a familiar purple moon in the distance, flashes of a long-ago childhood blinding him from the present. He had stumbled across the grand moon with his father during one of their many ventures. His memories came to him in a disturbing haze, lacking all the vividness of that which had come to pass since his rise within the dark side. There was something deep within that cried out to him, but he could not reach it anymore. There were pieces of him torn away by the ravages of time and the greedy, fetid hands of looming madness.

The ghost of memory possessed his mind... A hooded face, a friend of his mothers as he recalled. She had been a powerful force user, a disgraced Jedi working with the resistance. His few memories of her were blurry but incredibly fond. It was her this moon reminded him of, although the dark side had obscured many of his deeper recollections. He had struck her down in his first true act under Snoke. There came the image of a deep purple saber sputtering and dying in the mud squelching beneath his feet. Her crippled form lay pounded by the rain, before disappearing, coming back to the force from which she came.

He found the image haunting as he recalled it, the smell of rain dizzying in his senses, accompanied by a deep and ugly nagging within his ever fragile psyche. A low groan bubbled from his lips as he redirected his eyes fro the moon, and swept his hand before him to close the heavy blast shields. As they came together with a groan of the mechanism, he found himself alone. The shadows on the wall personified the manacing threat of true and total desolation. The high, sterile walls of his chambers made him feel small. He felt like a child again. Something drowning in the inky blackness of his mind's eye forced its mouth through the veil. With a voice of many voices he could not place, it whispered to him.

_You are living a lie..._

He shook in his place on the bed, his eyes searing with tiredness. He felt as if he was coming unglued when the pieces snapped together. At last, the voice he had come to trust came rolling to him in a whisper.

**_Those with true power need not rest...to be still, is to be weak._ **

Many lies had been told to him in his youth...by his mother...his father...Luke. One truth that rang absolutely after all of this time...was that silence, inaction, was the enemy of both sides of the force. Exhaustion had settled into his aging joints like concrete. In all his thirty-three years he had never felt so tired, no...this was beyond the threshold of tired. With every movement he hollowed another piece of himself out, making way for the voices that commanded him forward.

Each breath sent a visceral cry of protest through his mind. He stared forward, glaring into the helmet of Lord Vader. A silent cry for deliverance, whatever that could mean, flowed into the force. His amber eyes were bloodshot, wide, and pleading. Sockets ringed in aubergine ghosts of sleeplessness betrayed him, demonstrated his weakness. A patch of grey hair sat over his ears, the rest nearly black, cascading over his face in disarray. He choked out a whimper, the fullness of his bottom lip quivering as it delivered into the sterile air a prayer for guidance. The voices in his head, in the force, which had been his guidance for all this time were now vitriolic and disparaging regardless of his trust for them. He found fear within himself. Fear that he was growing weak, fear that he was growing old, and fear that he was going mad.

_**Pathetic, weak boy...** _

He palmed his temple, groaning against the quiet hiss of his grandfather. He collected himself as best he could, sighing out into chamber louder this time. His fingers shook as he dressed in the relative darkness. Although the harsh fluorescent lights had come to hurt his eyes, his true aversion was the scar on his chest. His mind swam with a sharp, punishing feeling of failure. He pushed himself upward, changing his posture to feign confidence. He strolled down the hall, and out of the heavy blast doors of his chambers. The sterile halls of the Plagueis allowed him time to clear his mind. He found it troublesome how willing he was to put himself on autopilot. In such a state, nothing but strong emotions were able to force themselves through the shell that had become of him.

He made his way onto the bridge where he expected to meet Allegiant General Pryde. He hoped that General Pryde would have news regarding the High Council. As Kylo approached Pryde nodded to the stormtroopers he had been addressing. He walked towards Kylo with purpose, his head held high and eyes gleaming with resolve. The news was good, and progress was being made.

"The girl, has she accepted?" They moved swiftly together, towards the grand hall where the High Council typically met. He turned his eyes to the older man, awaiting his response although he knew it.

"Yes Supreme Leader. However, there are stipulations due to her current operations on Naboo. She asks that her participation be remote and if in-person under strict confidence." Kylo was evidently dissatisfied.

"I would like to meet with her in person, after our meeting we can discuss a remote position as is current regulation. You have given me your word of her excellence, why have you not demanded she joins us today?" A growl of anger punctuated his tone, annoyance dripping through his lips as Pryde furrowed his brows thinking with a considerable effort of an adequate response.

"I respect and agree with her assertion that it would be best for you to meet with her on the planet of Naboo, under cover of darkness. She is in a location where your presence would be unknown. We must be incredibly discreet as her mission is of high sensitivity." Pryde spoke with a soft, even tone.

"I am the Supreme Leader, how have you allowed her to demand such things?" He said. He clenched his hand, sweat filling his palms. His eyes traced the pathway in front of him, rapid and angered. "Please trust that I know what is best for The Order, Supreme Leader. You will not find a more loyal or qualified member of The Order not already inducted into the High Council. She is quick-witted and stubborn, but her mind is incredible. I ask that you trust me."

Kylo Ren stopped in his stride, turning to Allegiant General Pryde. He allowed himself to push into his mind, although he was always on guard, Kylo found what he needed.

"I will send word to her of my impending arrival. Do not fail me, Allegiant General."


End file.
